Sermon notes from the Reverend Gaffrin Dreggalos
Good neighbors —
I heard the Great Elk whisper to me last night.
When I began to write this message, I prayed for answers to our plight. I prayed the Great Elk would take our pain away. I prayed it would bring us a bountiful harvest once more so we might fill our bellies and know peace.
The Great Elk heard me, good neighbors! The wind carried its voice to me, and it showed me the way through our hardships we face, showed me fields of abundance returning to our small village. For our hunger is its hunger. Our sorrows are its sorrows. It hears our cries and feels our pain.
You need only open yourselves to it — you must open yourselves to it — and you too shall hear its voice upon the winds, feel its embrace in the warmth of the sun, bask in its love for us.
It sang its true name to me, neighbors, and I cried with joy at the harmonious sound! And in those notes I saw the truth. I saw its power as our guardian spirit. I saw the need to provide for it, to give even more to it from our meager stores despite our hardships — and it will provide for us tenfold in return. Its hunger is our hunger.
With its belly full, it shall fill ours and dash our pain away. It will repay our efforts when our blood nourishes the fields and bring new life not only to our crops but to our community. Let this fruit of our labor thus fall like great rains from the sky!
Through the giving of our flesh we shall become one with nature and, thus, become part of the Great Elk itself. To be of it is to flourish like flowers in springtime. To give yourself to it is to be lost in its love. To embrace it is to leave your suffering at its feet.
We shall know pain no longer. I have seen it! It will wipe all our hurts away. Like the wildfire that cleanses the forest, it shall rid the rot within us!
But too many of you resist. You must open yourselves to the Great Elk, good neighbors! Open yourselves, I beg of you.
Open yourselves, or we shall do so for you.